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  “Food later,” Moloko said, and turned and dove, pushing Pōkole out the door and the dome.

  “What just happened?” Katrina asked.

  “Yeah,” Dan said. “It felt like I was hit by a huge bass-boosted speaker on 100!”

  “What you felt was a direct sonar attack from Moloko,” Terry’s mom explained. “It was turned way down, though. It can kill at close range. They use them to hunt small fish.”

  “She was mad Pōkole tried to grab me,” Terry said. “It’s not his fault, he’s just a baby.”

  “Agreed,” she said, “but just the same, I want you a bit further back during feedings for a while.”

  Terry nodded. “Probably a good idea.” He pointed at how Pōkole was swimming around outside, keeping a little distance from his mom. “I think we just saw the orca equivalent of a spanking.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 6

  Templemer, planet Hoarfrost, Lupasha System, Coro Region, Tolo Arm

  April 15th, 2038

  Using the manufactory, Dr. Jaehnig was able to build an artificial leg for Terry. Doc and his crew assisted in the fabrication process, which took an entire week and many test fittings. Back on Earth with the much-improved technology after First Contact, it would have been a single day with complex imaging systems and a quick build. As it was, his leg looked more like something from a bad sci-fi film. Terry thought it was awesome.

  “Dude, your leg looks like a killer robot,” Colin said the first day he walked into class.

  “It’s absolutely killer,” Dan agreed.

  “Badass,” Taiki said.

  “You can kick some real ass, I bet,” Katrina said and gave him a wink. Terry felt his cheeks growing hot at her statement. Despite spending half a year with all the other kids who’d left Earth, he hadn’t really made friends with anyone until now. It felt good.

  The leg might have been an improvisation, but it worked perfectly once they had it fitted correctly. It hurt where his leg ended and the prosthesis began, though not as badly as he’d thought it would.

  Besides finally being mobile, he gained the advantage of being able to feed Pōkole again. The leg was completely self-contained and watertight. Living in an underwater city, Doc had considered it a necessity, which had cost some extra time.

  After months without being in the water with him, Pōkole was excited, of course. Terry spent a few minutes just stroking the calf’s smooth side and letting the orca pull him around the pool.

  “Terr, Terr,” he vocalized repeatedly. It sounded more like his name now than before. Moloko stayed at the back of the moon pool, out of the way, but mindful of her calf. His new friends helped by being in the water with him at the same time. He immediately realized the downside of the missing leg; his balance in the water was all messed up. The leg was heavier than his natural limb, pulling him down slightly. He couldn’t swim; it was like an anchor.

  He got through the feeding but was unhappy and frustrated by the end of it. Katrina gave him a hand out of the water.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I looked like a hooked fish out there,” Terry grumbled.

  “Takes time to get used to a badass battle leg,” she said and gave him what was becoming her signature wink. He grinned despite himself.

  “Yeah,” Colin agreed. “Give it some time, buddy. They’ve got the swimming pool going. The junior high kids are painting Hawaiian scenes on the pool dome. It’s supposed to be pretty cool. Let’s get some swim time.”

  “Good idea,” Dan agreed.

  “We’re all rusty,” Taiki said.

  “The kiddy pool?” Terry asked darkly. The others frowned, then he heard Doc’s voice in his head asking if he was feeling sorry for himself again. He remembered stabbing the Oohobo in the eye with his dive knife and took a deep breath. “Sure. I’d like the help getting used to this leg in the water.”

  Katrina laughed and gave him a hug. Dan and Taiki both grinned at each other, making Terry wonder what they were grinning about. “It’ll be fun,” she said and winked.

  * * *

  “How was the first day back on your feet, kiddo?” Doc put down the slate in the shop he shared with other technical staff and his own people. He had an electronics loop on his head, and a piece of equipment open on the table before him.

  “It’s working fine,” Terry said.

  “But?” Doc asked, hearing the hanging question in the young man’s voice.

  “It’s swimming.” Terry explained the problem. Doc listened as he spoke, then nodded.

  “Yeah, makes sense. But I don’t think we can do anything about it. Your friends’ idea of practicing might have the most merit. Were you an expert the first time I took you kids diving?”

  “Well, no.”

  Doc pointed at him. “Bingo. Your balance has changed. Walking is easy, because the leg’s designed for it, and gravity here is a little less. We might be able to improve the leg with time, but right now we’re getting the mines operational. Work with it, and we’ll take you out next week to inspect one of the mines.”

  “Even after a week of practice, I won’t be able to swim very fast,” Terry pointed out.

  “You won’t have to swim fast, just swim well.” Doc gestured for him to follow. “You were curious about something we were working on before you got hurt?”

  “I remember,” Terry said. “Ticked me off,” he said.

  Doc grinned and nodded before opening a door in the work area. Inside was a miniature submarine just big enough for a single large person, or a couple of small ones. “We built them for mobility and extended operations outside the door. The water’s too cold for the drysuits.”

  “I noticed,” Terry said peevishly.

  “I’m sure you did. Even on maximum, you’d be hypothermic in less than an hour. Obviously wetsuits would be even worse. We’ve been using the full-size subs, but they’re slow, cumbersome, and we still end up going out in drysuits and working in shifts on the ragged edge of hypothermia.”

  “How long have you been pushing it?” Terry asked.

  “Since we got here. Lots of the science staff can dive, of course, but only a couple have cold water experience like we do.” He shrugged. “SEALs have to be able to do extreme cold work from day one, or you can’t be part of the teams. But we can’t be the ones to do all the mine work.”

  “Why not?” Terry asked.

  “Because there are only seven of us.”

  Terry turned and saw Peyto and Hutch lugging an air tank through the doors. Both men were built like tanks themselves, with necks so thick with muscle he didn’t know how they could move. Peyto had been the one talking. The two looked like brothers, but weren’t related.

  “We have other stuff to do,” Hutch agreed.

  “Merc stuff?” Terry asked.

  “You know it,” Toothpick said as he came in behind the two big guys, carrying gear himself.

  “What kind of contract?” Terry asked. Tina, the only girl in their group, was right behind Toothpick. She grinned at Terry as she helped Piano and Honcho manage a big crate overflowing with hoses and pipes.

  “Don’t know yet,” Doc said and went to help his crew sort the gear.

  “Where’d you find all this stuff?” Terry asked, going over to look at the equipment.

  “The Selroth left a ton of shit when they evac’d,” Tina told him. “There’s a huge junkpile over on the far side by Lock #2, the broken one. Whatever they didn’t want to take, they dumped.”

  “By the looks of it, they didn’t want to take anything,” Honcho said, taking off his cowboy hat to wipe sweat from his brow. He liked it cooler, and had said one of the downsides of getting the heating up and running was the damn Hawaiians kept it too hot. Doc said the man was from North Dakota and liked it right about 12 degrees. The dome was being maintained at what Terry thought was a bit cool, 22 degrees Celsius.

  “How’s the leg, kid?” Tina asked.

  “It’s just about awesome,�
�� Terry said.

  “Just about?”

  “He’s having trouble in the water,” Doc said and mentioned the buoyancy.

  “Told you it would be a pain,” Piano said. Terry had been amazed to find out the man had a doctorate in marine engineering.

  “Couldn’t get the system to balance on land and water,” Toothpick noted. He was a marine mechanic, so the two had done most of the design work on the leg.

  “Manufactory is an ancient POS,” Tina said as she eyed an electronic circuit board from the parts they’d brought. She was an electronics specialist.

  Doc had told Terry once that SEALs tended to come from all areas of expertise, so the teams would have the skillsets they needed for missions. Obviously he was a dive specialist. Honcho was a pilot of some skill. He’d never told Terry what Hutch and Peyto were good at besides carrying heavy loads and playing cards, which they were getting back to since the heavy stuff was done.

  “Just going to take practice,” Tina said.

  “Doc said as much,” Terry replied, trying not to sound surly.

  “Us officers know what’s good for you,” she said and grinned at him. Over at the work bench someone made a farting sound, and the others laughed. Doc and Tina, the two officers of the team, rolled their eyes but didn’t say anything.

  Terry loved to watch the interplay between the former SEALs, now mercs. They were all so different (except Hutch and Peyto, anyway), yet at the same time they were closer than most families. Maybe it comes from fighting together, he thought. He figured he was probably too young to understand anyway.

  “I told the kid he could come along when we test the minisubs,” Doc said.

  “Ain’t scared to go out in the deep again, are ya?” Honcho asked.

  “Don’t needle the kid,” Toothpick said, glancing up at Honcho from his work and brandishing a knife. “You might find yourself getting needled.”

  “Bite me,” Honcho replied to his teammate, then glanced at Terry curiously.

  “No, I’m not scared,” Terry said. They all stared at him. “But there’s something I’m going to need.”

  “What, your momma?” Honcho asked. Toothpick stopped working and glared at Honcho.

  “No,” Terry said and stood up straighter, the leg’s drive motors whining slightly. “A new knife, asshole.”

  Honcho’s mouth fell open as catcalls flew from his teammates. A second later he was forced to duck under the work bench as catcalls gave way to tools, parts, and empty drink cans. Doc nodded to Terry, a small grin on his face. Tina winked at him, and he smiled back.

  “I like this kid,” Toothpick said and walked over to Terry. “Here, son, you can have this one.” He unbuckled a knife from around his thigh and handed it to him. “I got this after my first mission, a present from my brother. I want you to have it.”

  Terry took the sheathed blade and belt. It wasn’t too heavy. He pulled it out, the sheath giving a click as the positive-retention released. The blade gleamed in the work lights, a solid five-centimeters thick and around 30 long. It had a false edge on the backside, as well as serrations for 10 centimeters before the hilt. The handle was rubberized and felt good in his hand. He tested the edge against his index fingernail, and a surprising amount of nail peeled away. It was as sharp as a scalpel.

  “I can’t take this, Toothpick,” Terry protested and carefully resheathed it.

  Toothpick shook his head and turned away. “It’s yours.”

  “But,” Terry said, and felt Doc’s hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s good, kiddo. Come on, these guys got work to do.” Doc walked him outside, where he spoke to him again. “Take good care of it.”

  “I will,” Terry said. He turned and staggered a little. Doc steadied him with a powerful hand.

  “You’ll get better with the leg. I’ve found when it comes to life, you either stand, or you fall.”

  Terry listened and nodded, looking down at the leg and noticing the knife again. “This was important, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Doc said. “His brother was on the team with us. We lost him on our first trip after you were evacuated to Karma.”

  Terry stared at the blade for a long time before he turned to ask Doc why Toothpick would give it to him. But Doc had already gone back inside, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Later, back in his quarters, Terry sat at the small living room table and stared at the knife, trying to fully understand the meaning of the gift. He was still sitting there when his mom came in.

  “Hey,” she said and hung the bag she habitually carried with her slate in it. “How’d the feeding go?”

  “I had some balance issues with the leg,” he said.

  His mom looked at the leg and quickly away. She closed her eyes and took a breath. Terry knew she was struggling with his artificial leg and the injuries he’d sustained. He knew she was still blaming herself, but didn’t know how to make her stop.

  “Do you want me to tell Dr. Jaehnig to work on it?”

  “No,” Terry said, “I’m going to work on learning to cope with a couple friends by swimming every day in the new pool.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I want to figure it out myself. Everyone’s worked hard enough already to help me.”

  “We’ll work as hard as you need,” she said.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. She walked over to him and grabbed him in a powerful hug. “Why the hug?” he asked.

  “For being braver than I am,” she said. “Where’d the knife come from?”

  “Toothpick gave it to me.” Terry explained how it had happened. His mom narrowed her eyes when he mentioned how Honcho had asked if Terry needed his mom to go swimming again, then smiled at his comeback.

  “Giving knives and coins is a big deal in the military,” she said. “It would seem you’ve impressed Doc’s people more than you realize.” Terry nodded in understanding. He’d figured, from Doc’s reaction. “Just be careful, okay? I only have you now.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 7

  Hoarfrost Core Mine #11, Planet Hoarfrost, Lupasha System, Coro Region, Tolo Arm

  April 22nd, 2038

  “How you doing in there, kiddo?” Doc asked over the radio.

  “Great!” Terry replied, carefully feathering the control thrusters to stay within a meter of the seven figures in drysuits. “I’m watching the sonar, though.”

  “Good deal,” Tina said. “We don’t want you to have to stab some more Oohobo to death out here.”

  “It okay, it okay!” Hoa the bottlenose transmitted on their channel.

  “We watch good!” Hoba, another of the bottlenoses, agreed. Ever since his attack, the bottlenoses had worked out patrols with the orcas to ensure no more of the giant predators got close. They acted as scouts, with their bigger cousins performing as interceptors. Since Terry’s attack, Doc’s team had encountered two more incidents of Oohobo, both safely intercepted by orcas, with only one minor injury on the whale’s part. However, they remained a constant danger.

  “We have no idea how fast they breed,” Dr. Patel pointed out. “The GalNet files were detailed, but the orcas haven’t left us much to work on. Based solely on the number we’ve encountered in only a few months, and the density of suitable prey, it’s safe to assume there might be thousands.”

  “Thanks Hoa, thanks Hoba!’

  “Yes, yes, help!” Skritch agreed. The entire Sunrise Pod was out helping today, since Terry was in the miniature sub for the first time. They found the device fascinating.

  Dr. Orsage said it was good to see them interested in something, and to encourage it. The bottlenoses had been somewhat quiet after arriving on Hoarfrost. They talked about the “Beyond,” which Terry knew was their way of describing hyperspace. They liked it just as much as the orcas appeared to hate it. They asked when they were going back to the beyond, but of course nobody could say. Terry knew it was likely never, but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut instead of providi
ng random information to the cetaceans, especially since their implant surgery.

  Terry wanted to ask them what they found so interesting about the beyond; he really did. He’d been about to ask several times, when his better sense kicked in, and he’d let it go. Maybe they’d volunteer the information one day with a little prodding.

  The big submarine was parked on a rocky outcropping a hundred meters away as Terry followed the seven mercs moving through the water using small, yet powerful machines called Seascooters to jet along. Held in both hands ahead of their bodies, they could reach speeds of 10 knots in a pinch, though they cruised at around five.

  Terry’s new one-man submersible was more akin to the old wet subs he’d seen in a museum. Terry still wore a drysuit, but it was connected to the craft’s built-in power source, and provided ample hot air circulation to keep him quite comfy. Plugged into the machine’s impressive sensors and remote manipulator arms, he could go over 20 knots and lift 100 kilos! He felt a little like a superhero in the thing, even if he did look like an overweight torpedo with arms. Surrounded by reinforced plastic windows, he had nearly perfect forward visibility, and a camera let him see behind.

  “This thing is great, Doc.”

  “I thought you’d like it,” Doc replied.

  “Keep an eye on the crappy Selroth power cells,” Toothpick warned. “If it shits the bed, you’ll only have five minutes of power.”

  “Yes, sir,” Terry replied.

  “Got the rover on sonar,” Honcho announced. His Seascooter was more advanced than the others, allowing him to act as lead. Terry’s systems were even more advanced, but this was his first time out in the new minisub.

  “Lock onto Honcho’s beacon,” Doc ordered.

  Terry called out “Roger” when it was his turn, which was last. He really didn’t mind. It was cool just being part of the operation.

  They sailed through the water for another minute. It was as clear as glass, yet even with their lights, they could only see a few dozen meters. Their lights were now set to the same frequency as those on Templemer’s dome.